


It's Quiet Uptown

by xsmoakx



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hamilton - Freeform, divorced
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:25:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsmoakx/pseuds/xsmoakx
Summary: Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak (Used to be Queen) divorced in the earlier summer. The late winter they lost the most important person in their lives. Their journey through grieving may either make them or break them.- Inspired by Hamilton Songs but not too heavily -





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so I'm posting this on a chance, seeing how people take it first. This chapter is pretty much a taster, that's why it's so short. I'm very busy late February so the updates may not be as frequent as I would hope but I will try and get as much done before I get really busy.  
> Lots of love.  
> Hit me up  
> Twitter & Insta - @xholysmoaksx

As soon as his foot hit the cold vinyl floor, the smell hit him. The disinfectant trying to erase the smell of the dead, the pungent of the iodoform trying to annul the bodily fluids spilled, the aseptic tasks put in place to abolish the essence of sickness and mortality.  
His hands flew out grabbing the first nurse he set his eyes on.

"Where is my son?!" Distress and weakness obvious in his voice. Grip tightening on the nurse's forearms.

"Mr Queen, they brought him in a half an hour ago, he lost a lot of blood on the way over." The man stood tall as sympathy clouded over his chocolate eyes.

"Is he alive?" The words spilled out of Mr Queen's mouth.

"Yes, but you have to understand.  
The bullet entered just above his hip and lodged in his right arm." The Nurse loosened Mr Queen's hands as they slowly slid away from him and down to his sides.

"Can I see him please?" Pleading and anguish clear in his words and sea of blue eyes.  
Slowly the medical man nodded as he walked down the hall, Mr Queen following closely behind with quickened steps. Feeling the same smell engulf him. The one he's always despised. The chocolate eyed man stopped by room 327.

"I promise we're doing everything we can but the wound was already infected when he arrived." None of which reached the worried man's ears as he burst in the room containing his son.

"Tommy!?" The exclamation left his mouth as he practically ran to the bedside.

Dark circles under the eyes, paled face, grey lips. A sight almost known too well to Mr Queen. Not one he ever expected to see in his 19-year-old son.

"Pa.." Tommy spluttered out followed by a frail cough. "I did exactly how you said, Pa. I held my head up high." Short breaths stole his words as his chest continued to heave.

"I know, I know. Shh," his father said quickly and reassuringly, reaching out to hold his son with trembling hands. "I know. I know. Shh. You did everything just right," his thumb slid over his son's knuckles bracing himself to keep his tears at bay.

"I spread my feet and held my ground..." Tommy spoke with such fragility that all Oliver could do was close his eyes.

"I know, save your strength and stay alive," he breathed out as he released the darkness from his vision.

The small blonde woman once known as his wife erupted through the door. "Is he breathing? Is he going to survive this?!" Her breaths short and her voice loaded with worry.

"Felicity!?" The man looked up, at his aged ex-wife. The beauty that took his breath away many years ago still, to this day, bewitches him.

"Who did this, Oliver? Did you know?" Felicity's movements were quick as she pulled the other chair to Tommy's bedside.

"Mom, I'm so sorry for forgetting what you taught me," he spoke softly. Their hands intertwining as the other of Felicity's hand gently combed through his hair.

"My son.." she whispered holding her tears back with everything in her. Oliver looked at his family, admiring their strength. Tommy's eyes connected with Felicity's.

"When I was nine.. we used to play piano, remember?" The hint of a smile crept onto his mouth.

"I remember, we played piano." Felicity's breath took her away as she let out a puffed smile.

"You would put your hands on mine," his voice descended into a whisper.

"You changed the melody every time," Felicity looked at her son in awe.

"I would always change the line." Tommy let out a small laugh.

"Shh. I know, I know." Continuing to move her hand through her son's hair, Felicity's eyes closed for only a moment.

"I would always change the line." He repeated.

"I know, I know," she said with baited breath.

"Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf." Felicity spoke, reminiscing of how she used to teach Tommy melodies.

"Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf," he sung back in a weaker tone.

"Good." She smiled.

"Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf." Tommy only made it to seven. "Sept, huit, neuf," felicity repeated squeezing Tommy's hand. "Sept, huit," her voice lost in her sorrow.

The deafening sound of the heart monitor rang through the room as Tommy's head dropped to the side.

His life no longer in his eyes.

His once pale face turning even paler.

His grey lips exchanging for blue ones.

He was gone.

That was the day Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak lost their son.

\-- 5 months later --

Five months have past.

Five months have been and gone.

Five months without their son.

Oliver moved back in with Felicity at her request to not be alone. Their daily tasks were no more.  
Felicity's once bubbly demeanour left with her son.

Oliver wasn't much of a talker these days, his words lost to him. He couldn't find any worthy to say.

The guilt that consumed him. Had he not trained him right? They had definitely raised him right, there was no doubt about how amazing their son was.

"Oliver, dinner is ready." The quietness of Felicity's voice almost scared Oliver. He didn't like that his actions and losing their son had ruined her light-heartedness.

Feeling like a passenger in a ship that's on autopilot, dragging himself up from his position on the couch. The cool floor hit the soles of his feet, the cold against his toes sent a shock through him.

The memory of him and his little boy running through the same apartment. His two-year-old son running from the bath. Giggles and laughter of his boy filled his ears.

Pulling himself away from the happiness he sat down across from Felicity.

"Thank you," he mumbled.

Moments of impregnated silences past.

"I'm going for a walk later... you're welcome to join me." He sighed as Felicity's fork twiddled around the spaghetti. The blue sea of her eyes fixated on the plate in front of her.

"Maybe another time," the unanimated words left her mouth. Only the sounds of chewing could be heard. The scratches of Oliver's chair against the floor rang through the room and pierced the silence like it were a balloon.

"Felicity, you have to get out sometime." He said loud enough for her to hear.

"Maybe I don't want to get out Oliver! Maybe my heart has been broken too many times that I've finally cracked!" The chair she was in slid across the floor as she stood up. "I don't want to go on walks with the man who cheated on me for a year! I don't want to go on walks when my son is six feet under! I don't want to go on walks because it's too much!" The sounds of her feet patting off the floor as she stormed in her room echoed.

"I'm sorry," the apology slipped out of his mouth softly but she was already gone and unable to accept it.


End file.
